Breaking Apart
by NemesisFate
Summary: Harry leaves Severus. Severus is left to deal with his demons... and there's not much time left. HPSS slash implied
1. Part I

Title: Breaking Apart

Author: Nemesis

Feedback: Please!

Pairing: HP/SS

Rating: R

Summary: Harry's just left Severus. Severus is left to deal with his demons… and there isn't a lot of time left.

**Part I**

_And my words will be here when I'm gone  
As I'm fading away against the wind  
And the words you left me linger on  
As I'm failing again now, never to change this_

And I'm sympathetic,  
never letting on I feel the way I do  
As I'm falling apart again at the seam

_-- "Sympathetic," Seether_

Severus sighed as memories crashed over him, burning through his mind, body, and soul. His five-year, often volatile, relationship with Harry had just ended, leaving him with nothing but empty memories and a bursting heart.

He finished writing his thoughts down, carefully rolling up the parchment again and tying it, tossing it into the box with all of his other poetry. Few people knew that he loved to write poetry. No one knew that he was any good. He sat down at his desk and wrote two letters: one to Harry and one to Albus. Both to be delivered the day he died.

He knew the day would have to be soon. Severus' health was failing, the poisons Voldemort had fed him so long ago finally starting to kill him. He was still trying to find a cure, although he had all but given up. Every day of experimentation was empty and hollow, trying to defeat something that was undefeatable.

"_My dearest Albus,"_ he began, starting with the easier letter. Albus was his closest friend, a father figure, and a mentor. Their relationship was often fraught with Severus' frustration, but in the end, it was always Albus who had pulled Severus through. Always Albus who went after Severus and rocked him to sleep after the most difficult rounds with the Death Eaters, singing softly, horrendously off-key. Always Albus who had understood him like no other did. It was Albus who gave him a chance to live again.

"_My dearest Albus,_

_If you are reading this, then I am dead, having finally succumbed to Voldemort's poisons. He has killed me after his death, something he always wanted to do if he could not achieve my death during his life. I sincerely hope you will be able to find another to fill my position in Hogwarts, although I seriously doubt I will be missed by many. The student's cabinet that holds ingredients commonly (and foolishly) regarded as safe is unlocked and in the left corner in the back. The rest of them are locked. The keys are under my bed whenever they are not with me. I will have placed them there prior to my expiration. Do try to hire someone who is somewhat competent._

_I am sorry for every mistake I have ever made in my life…"_

Severus stopped for a moment. It was impossible to continue. Writing the letter made his impeding death all the more real. It made every mistake he had made in his life too real. It made his life too real. He took a deep, steadying breath and pressed on. The disease was killing him, slowly but surely, and if he did not write the letter today, then he would have to write it tomorrow. There was no point in putting it off till later. He was nearly dead, anyway. Maybe he could come back as a ghost and teach Potions to those dunderheads. He chuckled almost hysterically, an edge of desperation creeping into his laugh. Sighing resignedly, he reluctantly picked up his quill and continued writing.

"_I am sorry for every mistake I have ever made in my life. I know my apology is not enough, it can never be enough. I never told you everything I did under Voldemort. The people I tortured. The people I raped. The people I killed. The people whose lives I've destroyed forever. I remember every face that I saw before I raised my wand and said those fatal words. I remember every person I ever killed, every scream of pain from the Cruciatus, every salty tear from those I've raped. And only you know how much I cried when I came back, when I admitted I had been wrong. Those tears I shed could do nothing to save everyone's lives. The lives that I had already destroyed._

_I want to thank you for every chance you gave me to rebuild my life. If it were not for you, I do not know where I would be right now. Probably six feet under or in Azkaban, like most of Voldemort's supporters. I don't know what I did to deserve all of the second chances you gave me, but I remain grateful._

_Harry – Potter – and I have finally ended our relationship after a string of arguments and fights. I want you to know that I have always loved him like no other, wanted him to be mine forever, and somehow, I could not make it work. Under my bed there are three boxes. One is for you, I will get to it later. The other is for him. It's green and gold, and is full of items I have always wanted to give to him and never had the nerve to myself. Please give it to him. Don't open it – it's warded to only accept Harry's magical signature._

_Also under my bed is a box for nobody and for everybody. It is full of my poetry. I would like you to organize them by date (I have already dated them), put them together in anthology, and have them published. I do not want to have it published while I live, but after my death, I want people to know. Also in there are two journals, both carefully edited. The first is about being a Death Eater, the second is about being a spy. I would like you to publish these as well, to finally let people know exactly what went on in there._

_Under my bed is also a box for you. In there is everything I have never been able to say and never been able to give. You will easily recognize this box – it has the picture of a lemon drop on it, the treat I despised the most and that you love the most. I want you to know that I cannot express my gratitude for everything you have ever done for me. I want to thank you for being my father when my own father could not put down the bottle long enough to notice he had a son. He drank himself into an early death, but not before he killed my mother and killed my soul. I want to thank you for giving life to my soul, and I want to apologize from running from your protection into a world I could not handle and could not be a part of. As infuriating as you could be, you were the only one who ever understood me fully, every wish, every desire, everything, and I will never be able to thank you properly. My words, although they will be here when I am gone, are never enough to say everything I could never say for thirty-three years, ever since I set foot in Hogwarts, nothing more than a terrified little boy._

_Severus Snape"_

Severus finished the letter with a flourish, tears streaming down his face. The quill clattered out of his hand, falling onto the floor forgotten. He angrily wiped the tears away.

He hauled himself up, heading to his sitting room, coughing all of the way. His heart tightened. He knew he had little time left. He would miss everything, as surprising as that might have seemed.

He would write Harry's letter later. Writing Albus' letter had been difficult for him, and he could not handle trying to write another letter like that. He couldn't handle thinking about Harry.

Fate, as usual, did not seem to care.

The words crashed over Severus, Harry's last words, Harry's words from every fight they ever had.

"_Fine! Don't give a shit about the fact that I have needs! Go to hell for all I care!"_

"_You're arrogant, stuck-up, and unforgiving. Why would anyone stay with you?"_

"_I loved you once. But not anymore. How can I love someone like you?"_

Severus cried, harder and harder. That last remark had hurt the most. The thought that Harry had loved him once was worse than the thought that Harry had never loved him.

"_I hate you. You destroyed everything I once was in an attempt to build another you. I'm leaving, forever. I don't ever want to see you again. You destroyed me, and for that, I can never forgive you."_

That had been right before Harry left, storming out angrily.

Harry's leaving had broken his will. It was that moment that Severus stopped fighting the poison, stopped trying to find a cure.

His life was full of disappointments and hatred, and then Harry had come along and loved him, and then Harry had left and broken his heart again.


	2. Part II

**Part II**

_I never reach my indecision  
to let you see again all I give you  
I'm sick of feeding your attention,  
knowing I never did. I distress you  
Taking and breaking and hating  
I remember all you said to me now  
Faking, forsaking and failing  
my memories are all stained again__.  
"Needles," Seether_

Severus got up and threw something – he had no idea what – into the fire, furious. He tried to purge his mind, his soul, his existence of Harry, angry that he had ever cared, ever tried to help Harry.

'_He was just like you – scared, abused, and determined,_' his mind whispered.

He couldn't shut that up, although he did try. He had let Harry waltz in, steal his heart and then… nothing. Harry waltzed back out, screaming and fighting all the way.

Severus had done everything Harry had asked of him… He had gone to all of those damned Ministry functions, he had endured all of the unwanted publicity, he had fought with the parents who wanted him removed from the teaching staff, he had done every damn thing for Harry.

Severus, furious and rejected, picked up whatever was breakable and unprotected in the room and smashed it. He tore apart his room. Suddenly he dropped onto the ground, coughing and spasming. He arched his back and took a few deep breaths.

He couldn't move. He knew that his life was almost over, that last attack was proof enough. His legs weren't functioning, although his arms still were. He reached for his wand and pointed at the fire, muttering a spell. The fire turned bright green. "Albus," he rasped. "Help me."

Albus stepped through the fire. "My dear boy, what's the matter?" he asked, shocked.

"Help me up."

Albus pulled out his wand and levitated Severus, placing him gently in the armchair. "Can you get up?" Albus asked, clearly worried.

Severus shook his head. "I don't think my legs can work any more."

Albus conjured a staff. "Let's see if either one of them work. Here, let me help you."

Severus looked at Albus, shocked. "I couldn't ask you to let me lean on you."

Albus chuckled. "I'm not as old as you think. Bah! I have some life in me yet. C'mon, do your old friend a favor and get up. Help yourself out occasionally."

"Not at someone else's expense."

Albus' eyes narrowed, frustrated. "Severus, my boy, one of these days you'll have to see that not everything I want to do to help you is at my expense. Now get up and help yourself. I need to know if one of your legs is functioning."

Severus nodded and leaned on Albus' left shoulder, taking the cane in his left hand. "Try to go to the door," Albus ordered gently.

Severus did, his left leg giving out immediately. He fell down on the ground, biting his lip to keep himself from screaming in pain.

"That's okay, Severus. Try the other leg."

With considerable help from Albus, Severus got back on his feet and switched the hand the cane was in. He took a cautious step forward, then another, until he reached the door.

"Come back," Albus called.

Severus nodded, feeling incredibly like a young baby taking his first steps. Finally reaching his armchair, Severus sank into it, rubbing his right leg in an attempt to loosen the muscles.

Albus sighed and sat down in the chair opposite to Severus'. "At least one of your legs still works," Albus noted reluctantly.

"But my other doesn't," Severus whispered. He had relied on the use of both his legs his entire life. His body used to be strong and agile, but no longer. He knew he was weak.

"Severus," Albus hemmed. "Don't think of yourself as weak or unfit. You're still a brilliant man."

"But I won't be able to spend an entire day brewing potions, I won't ever be able to take a leisurely stroll in the Forbidden Forest alone for fear of losing my other leg and dying there, I won't ever be able to sweep in to a room dramatically or terrify a student with silent footsteps. Instead, this clunking noise will follow me for the rest of my short life. After ten, fifteen minutes of brewing, I will not be able to stand any longer. I can't ever be outside in nature alone – what if my leg fails and I have no way of returning?"

"Before this, you could do ten thousand things. Now you can only do nine thousand. Now, instead of mourning the loss of those thousand things, take a deep breath and appreciate the fact that you're still alive. Fate has deemed that you should survive this attack, and with a little luck, Fate may deem that you should triumph over this poison. That is, if you're still fighting it with the same vigor, same fervor you used to fight it with."

Severus sighed defeatedly. "That's just the thing, Albus. I'm _not._ I can't fight it that strongly anymore. All I hear is Harry's voice, flinging insult after insult at me. All I hear is that last slam of the door as he stomped out. All I hear is his rejection. I loved him, Albus, more than anything in this world. And I can't bear to let go."

"Fight for him. Fight that disease for him. Keep battling that disease for him. Let your anger at him, at his rejection, fuel your fight for your life."

"But there is no point for me to live anymore," Severus half-whispered.

Albus sighed. "What about your students? Who will bludgeon that knowledge of potions into them? Who is as good as you are? What about your friends?"

"I have none." It was a statement, quietly said, without any self-pity.

"Ridiculous! What about me? Am I not your friend?"

Severus nodded slowly.

"Minerva? She loves you as much as I do. She cares very deeply for you, my boy. The entire staff loves you. You might not see it yet, but they do. They all respect your knowledge and ability, and some of them are still slightly wary of you and your acerbic tongue, especially the new DADA teacher, but that is beside the point. Many people in the Order still care deeply about you. Severus, as much as you might like to think so, you are not alone in this world. You simply aren't. So pick yourself up and fight this bloody disease. And while you're at it, stop writing those letters to people to be delivered upon your death. Because you won't have a need for them for another fifty, sixty years, and you certainly won't need the letter to me then. I'll be gone by then."

Severus stared at Albus, gobsmacked. "How did you know about those letters?"

Albus chuckled. "I saw the one addressed to me lying on your desk. I put the quill back in its place, by the way. I don't know why you left it on the floor."

Severus cleared his throat nervously.

"Also, why don't you publish your poetry and journals before you die? They'll never be relevant if you wait that long."

Severus sighed. "I'll have to think about that one."

"You'll need a cane to get around, of course, unless you prefer a wheelchair."

Severus sputtered. "I need a walking aid?"

Albus nodded sadly. "I'm afraid so, dear friend. You haven't been fighting as hard as you have been for too long. You're letting the disease take control, instead of the other way around. Close your mind to the disease and force it out of your body. You can do it."

"Apparently I can't."

"You can. Now, I'll need to conjure you a cane that will fit your arm perfectly. Even the slightest discomfort could prevent you from fighting the disease with all your might."

"Now I'm starting to feel like an old man," Severus sighed.

Albus nodded. "I know, Severus. I know. Keep your mind trained on something – someone – you love, and fight."

"What – who – can I think about?"

"Your love of Potions springs to mind. Your friends. If it has to be anger that fuels you, then Voldemort. The Death Eaters. Rape. Murder. Torture. Hate. If it must be frustration, then your students. Your job. My meddling. The disease. Harry. Think about, my friend. Anything that gives you strength is something that can help you fight. You just have to be willing to help yourself fight."

Severus sighed. "Fine, Albus, I'll try."

Albus smiled wanly and conjured the staff for Severus. "I'll go now and let you accustom yourself to the new trials ahead of you. Just don't forget to fight, Severus."

Cane in hand, Severus walked Albus to the door. "And Severus, while you can't stand and brew all day, you may certainly walk in the woods. Bow your head."

Severus did so, confused. Around his neck Albus slipped a silver chain with a small, silver pendant that looked like a burning fire around his neck. "If ever you should fall, and you can't get out, call my name and grasp the pendant. I'll come to you."

Albus turned and left. Severus stared after him, an unwanted tear sliding out of his eye and down his face.


	3. Part III

**Part III**

_It seems like every day's the same  
and I'm left to discover on my own  
It seems like everything is gray  
and there's no color to behold  
They say it's over and I'm fine again, yeah  
Try to stay sober feels like I'm dying here._

Severus got up and summoned his cane, getting up with extreme difficulty. An hour later, he hobbled out, cursing the clunking sound following him to his classroom. His students stared at him, shocked.

"What are you brats staring at?" he snapped.

They stared at their desks, pointedly not looking at their teacher. Severus limped over to his desk and eased himself into his chair. "As you well know, there is a test today. Stand up and get the test."

The kids nodded and respectfully stared at the ground as they shuffled to get their tests and sat down, frowning as they took it.

"Browning, come up and get your test," Severus ordered with a sigh. Usually he would hand it out, but he realized that he couldn't stand that long.

The child addressed got up and grabbed his test. Severus sighed and rubbed his temples. He hated his life sometimes, especially with the new insult Fate had thrown at him.

He glanced down at his useless leg, cursing it with all his might.

"Johnson, eyes on your own paper," Severus snapped, knowing it was far more effective when he was an inch away from the student. Still, the boy averted his gaze quickly and looked steadfastly at his own test.

He collected the tests five minutes before the end of class. "Listen up, all of you!"

They all immediately looked at him, making sure they were looking at his eyes and not the walking cane in his hand. Severus struggled to stand up and stood in front of the class, attempting to announce what he needed to without sitting down.

"As it is obvious to you sniveling brats, I am unable to use one of my legs. That does _not_ mean, however, that you can cheat, copy, or do anything you wouldn't do when I was able to look over your shoulder and see it! If you do so, severe penalties will be imposed upon you. Do I make myself clear?"

The class nodded.

"Excellent," Severus hissed. He bit his lip in pain and lowered himself into his chair slowly. His leg was threatening to give out again.

The bell rang, and the class filed out slowly.

Severus sighed as he entered his rooms that night. The day had been tough on him. He massaged his sore leg and headed towards the bathroom.

He came out half an hour later, his hair wet and his skin moist from the bath. He climbed into bed and laid the cane next to him, making sure he would have it when he woke up first thing in the morning.

The next day was terrible. His first class sat there for twenty minutes in complete silence waiting for him. Finally, one of the students got up and left, heading to the Headmaster.

He tried to figure out how to get up to Dumbledore's office. The gargoyle suddenly jumped aside and the staircase behind it began moving. Shrugging, the student stepped onto the staircase and tapped on the door.

"Enter, my dear boy," Albus called.

The student entered fearfully and waited patiently.

"Now, what is the problem? You should be in class, am I right?"

The student nodded. "Potions, sir. But Professor Snape isn't there. We've been waiting for twenty minutes now, and he isn't there yet."

Albus' eyes widened slightly. "Very well. I will come down and see what is going on. Follow me."

Albus went down to the dungeons and saw Severus' entire class waiting patiently for him.

"Class dismissed," Albus announced with a sigh. The class filed out quietly, and Albus headed to Severus' rooms.

Albus called Severus' name a few times, but received no answer. Albus walked around, trying to see if there was any sign of Severus. Finally, he went into the bedroom.

Severus was lying on the bed, his eyes closed. His cane was propped up against the wall within an arm's reach of the bed. Albus walked over to the bed and bent over Severus.

"Severus, you have to wake up now," he said quietly. Severus didn't move. Albus frowned. The only other time he had to do that, Severus had leapt out of bed and had nearly cursed the Headmaster within ten seconds.

"Severus," Albus said louder. "You really need to get up. Your entire class waited for twenty minutes today. I finally had to dismiss them. Severus?"

There was still no answer.

Going against his better instincts, Albus reached over and shook Severus gently, knowing that if he did wake Severus that way he would be cursed instantly. Severus didn't move.

Albus gently touched Severus' forehead, trying to see if he had a fever. His body was ice-cold. Albus' hand dropped suddenly.

"He's dead," he whispered, a tear sliding down his face.


	4. Part IV

**Part IV**

_I'll be your dream  
I'll be your wish I'll be your fantasy  
I'll be your hope I'll be your love  
Be everything that you need  
I'll love you more with every breath  
Truly madly deeply do  
I will be strong I will be faithful  
'cause I'm counting on  
A new beginning  
A reason for living  
A deeper meaning_

Harry stood at the foot of Severus' casket, weeping. "I never knew he was this sick," Harry sighed. "I never knew that Severus was about to die. I thought he was…"

He looked up at Albus, who was also crying hard.

"You have to make your speech," Albus sighed. "After that, you can say all you want to Severus. Like I will."

"You make your speech first," Harry asked.

Albus nodded and called the congregation to order. Among them were the staff and students of Hogwarts, some of the Aurors Severus had become friendly with, and the odd person or two. The Ministry was also there, pompously led by Fudge in an attempt to respect the spy.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Albus called. "I am here today to tell you about a man who spent his life in shades of gray…" He stopped, physically unable to continue. "I cannot…. I cannot speak today. I have lost one of my closest friends to a disease he didn't deserve to have, a poison he should never have been given. I cannot tell you what kind of a man he was, because my words fail me today." Albus stepped down, unable to say another word, crying hard.

Harry stood up. "I asked some of you what you thought of Severus. Many of you told me he was a bright, vindictive man. Some of you told me that he was occasionally pleasant. One person remembered him…" his voice broke. "Remembered him as the man who saved her family. Another told me he had destroyed hers. Many of his former students said they hated him but learned so much from him. I think that's the way he would've wanted it. He always thought that a teacher should never get close to any of his students, lest something terrible develop. The disgust the students felt for him he was okay with, but he always said anything stronger would be terrible. Hate from a student – vindictive, adult hate – would have shattered any ability of the student's to learn. Adoration, admiration, affection, those too would destroy the ability to learn. I think he was the one teacher no one ever had a crush on while a student."

He paused for a moment, looking around. Many of the people were nodding.

"Three years after I graduated, he and I ended up dating each other. Our relationship lasted five years, after which I slammed the door in his face. Only after his death did I find out that the poor man was sick, that he was dying, that Voldemort had managed to kill him while he himself was dead."

Harry paused again, crying profusely.

"I loved him so very much," he said softly. "And I destroyed his spirit when I slammed the door in his face. Why I am standing up here, why he asked _me_ to speak at his funeral, I have no idea. I just can't believe he's dead. I always thought that he would live forever somehow. No idea how, of course, but just somehow. Fate, it seems, did not want that to happen. And I regret that."

He paused again. "I can say nothing about how much I miss him already. Allow me to borrow the words of another man, W. H. Auden."

He pulled out a sheet of paper and read:

"_Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,  
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,  
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum  
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come._

_Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead  
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,  
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public  
doves,  
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves._

_He was my North, my South, my East and West,  
My working week and my Sunday rest,  
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;  
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong._

_The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;  
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;  
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.  
For nothing now can ever come to any good."_

He stepped down and sat down at the foot of Severus' casket. Eventually, everyone except for Albus and Harry left.

"I never knew," Harry whispered. "You got worse and worse, so much harder to live with, and spent so much time in your workroom. I thought that maybe you had found someone else or that you were trying to find a way to tell me to leave. And in reality you were dying. And, oh Merlin, I left you when you needed me the most. I killed you, didn't I? I killed you just because I was so… fucking… _selfish!_"

"You shouldn't blame yourself. Severus knew he was dying and never told you," Albus told Harry in an attempt to help him.

"I should've guessed, I should've known, I should've trusted him and stayed by him and helped him battle it and instead I killed him by leaving him!"

"You couldn't have known that leaving him would do that. You couldn't have known anything, especially since he never told you anything."

"I should've loved him unconditionally."

"You are only human."

Harry stood up and looked into the casket, a thousand words bubbling up inside of him and none coming out in any coherent thought. He left, tears still streaming down his face.

Albus sat down next to the casket. "I never believed you when you said you had little time left. I kept telling you to keep fighting, and instead you died. And you knew you would. Maybe I just didn't want to admit the truth to myself that you were dying. Maybe I wanted to think that you would live to see much after my death. How very wrong I was. How I wish that I had stood by you and helped you in your last moments instead of trying to give you false hope."

Harry noticed a letter on his desk. _"To Be Delivered After My Funeral – Severus Snape," _it read on the envelope. Harry opened it curiously and sat down to read the letter.

"_Harry," _it began.

"_I cannot tell you how much I love you. I was an idiot to let you go, an idiot to stand by and watch how I alienated myself from you, an idiot not to tell you I was dying. I thought you would leave me; I was wrong. I see now you would've stayed with me until the end if I had told you I was dying. Instead, I told you nothing, nothing, and you left me. You thought that I wanted to leave you and couldn't tell you, or that I was in love with another. But you never could have guessed I was deathly ill – I hid it too well, even from you. _

_I loved you, I love you, and even in Death, whatever it may be, I will love you. You will not see me as a ghost, I'm afraid, since I am not afraid to face Death, like those who are ghosts are. Forgive me, please, if only for your own sake. I have forgiven you for leaving me; I see now it was my fault. I should have been there for you so that you could be here for me._

_Under my bed there is a box for you. You will see what the contents of that box are when you open it; I offer no explanation here. Those things that require one have one next to them._

_Next to it is a box of my poetry and two diaries. Albus knows what they are. Help get them published, please. _

_The two of you knew me the best. I thank you for that._

_All my love,_

_Severus Snape."_

Harry let the letter fall from his hands and began crying hard. "Merlin, I miss him."

He knew the pain would recede but the memories never would. He smiled slightly. "I'll always have him with me," he sniffed quietly.

He looked up at the wall, where a picture of Severus was mounted, and smiled. "I'll always love you," he told the picture.

-- End.


End file.
